Truth of self
I look past the mirror,
past my own dull eyes,
to see the emptiness inside.
To see the grey waves numbly settle
where there was once a violent tempest
of pain and happiness.
The battle of memories which ended in both sides defeat.
Beyond the stagnant emotions I see a cracking
going deeper by the minute.
An abyss involuntarily growing
pulling in the once-great storm.
The abyss, the void
filled with pain: malignant and benign.
Fresh or rotted with age,
all decaying, unnoticed, inside these dull grey eyes.